I need to talk to a stranger.
I think God and I are fighting. I hope it ends soon. The silence is killing me.
Although it may be entirely my fault. I think I’m mad at God. Going to Pepperdine, as much of a blessing as it is, gives me an inferiority complex.
I remember this sermon Britt Mericks gave a couple months ago on the idea of the “good” and the “bad” Christian. He had said that because our value and worth lies within Christ’s goodness, there really is no discernment.
True as that may be, I still feel as though I am surrounded by the holiest of the holiest- Christians that can talk, and literally talk to God, and more importantly, hear God whenever they please. And to be completely honest, I’m jealous. Jealous as hell.
I recently joined this small group full of the most amazing people. They’re truly inspirational. The purest hearts and the strongest faiths- and what’s even more amazing, they posess this ceaseless, childlike.. WONDER for the Father. They have amazing (I think I overuse this world) gifts- gifts of prayer, prophesy, tongues, and even healing. Gifts that I was always skeptical of- but gifts that I certainly I always wanted to have. I witness these gifts upon my first visit- it was astounding. Those with the gift of tongue brought an intimacy, a holy poetic cadence to the worship.. Those with the gifts of prophecy and prayer, appeared like vessels of Christ resonating His love and goodness and power. God was everywhere- as mad at Him as I was, I couldn’t escape Him.
After the worship I pulled aside the leader, KC, and told her of my troubles- you see, we’re told over and over that God doesn’t really work based off of a reward system. But why are they blessed with these gifts, and I’m not? Why can’t I speak to God and be able to hear Him the way that they do? To have the power to just.. pray or speak out in tongues and then instantly have the Holy Spirit answer, or not even answer, but just to immediately be able to feel His presence.. how amazing would that be? How come they can have that type of relationship with God, but I can’t? Am I not a good enough Christian? Should I work harder, try harder, pray harder?
KC prayed for me. And the way she prayed… well, haha, that made me jealous too. She started praying.. then abruptly stopped, look at me, and said, “I’m sorry, can you wait a second? I just need to talk to God really quick and consult Him on how to pray for you.” She then bows her head, closes her eyes, and muttered half in tongues, half in English, smiling the whole time. She finishes the prayer.
That’s what I want- to be that intimate with our Father. I feel like I’m struggling and struggling and maybe I’m not fighting hard enough. Maybe my intentions are too selfish- I want these gifts, first and foremost, for my own spiritual welfare; the desire to use these gifts to benefit His Kingdom comes a close second.
There’s that Bible verse. Something about asking then receiving, seek and He will answer. Maybe I’m asking wrong. Or just can’t see clearly.
My last days in Firenze.
Extremely bittersweet.
Though I cannot wait to be back in SF, Malibu; with Miguel, my family, my friends, my dog;
I’m going to miss Leonardo’s lectures. Struggling with Italian. Mangiare la cena. the cobblestones. the villa, the people. living out of a suitcase. the art, the history. my little Italian brother Pietro. Medici’s gelato. Cafe Liberta. relating my life to Henry James.
But I think I’ve done Italy right-
Siena, San Gimingianino, Fiesole, Pompei, island of Ischia, Sicily, Palermo, Valley of the Temples, Monreale, Cefalu, Norman Palace, Taormina, Mt. Etna, Rome, Venice, and my favorite, Paris.
Plus I’m going home with the best personal souvenir :).
i love technology.
not only does it make basic everyday tasks and needs a convenience, it’s also simplify human relationships.
you know how they say you can’t erase your past, and that you have to grow, learn, and deal with it? bullshit. I’ve just deleted quite a few ‘friends’, and intend on removing that part of my past from both my cyber and physical world.
select, unfriend, finito!
you might call this method unhealthy or cowardly, but I say, who are you to judge? I’m a psychology major and I know what’s right for my mental, spiritual, and relational health. (or it may slightly resemble denial, but we’ll see how that played out)
We’re currently discussing Henry James’ Portrait of A Lady in my lit class. Doesn’t it suck when the book you’re analyzing in class holds too many similarities to your own life? Well, Mr. Henry James. I don’t think I agree with you. Who in the right mind would choose to suffer? I’ll take my supposed ignorant bliss any day, thank you. And you know what else? I may be a naive, sexless, and somewhat amoral American girl, but you sir, are a masochistic expatriate, and it’s pretty clear who came out with the shorter end of the stick. You maliciously tore apart the lifestyles of these ‘oblivious’ Americans, claiming we’re all stuck in some senseless limbo with no self or sense of identity or culture, well ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black? You’re an expatriate for cryin’ out loud! Just because you couldn’t identify with your countrymen and left for Italy in search of your soul, only to be terribly disappointed, doesn’t mean all the rest of us are in denial. Leave us alone and quit lamenting- additionally, it is your brother who’s the psychological expert, so give it a friggin rest.
Now I’m rambling.
There’s this idea in Italy that, by placing a lock on one of the ponte’s in Venice, with the initials of you and your lover and toss the key into the river, you will be together forever :).
This weekend was uh.maze.zing.
Went to bed around 1am Friday night and woke up 2 hours later to catch a 4am train to Venice. Arrived in Venice few hours later.. there. are. WATER TAXIS. AND WATER BUSES. like, what? oh, and erm, water.. garages? pretty ridic. Beautiful, beautiful city. I think the most memorable moment was the gondola ride-
30 euros for an hour tour of Venice, with our gondolier, Massimo. So surreal.
Got back to Florence around 10pm :), then hitting the discoteca, finally getting into bed at about 3:30am. Best 24 hours of my life.
